Date: Sun, 30 Aug 2009 19:01:37 -0400
From: stories@nc.rr.com
Subject: Brian's Visit 7
Brian's visit - version 2.0.0 (June-August 2009)
(NC-reluctant, auth, cum denial, humil, feet, extensive drug use, unsafe-sex)
stories@nc.rr.com
DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of FICTION - any similarity to
actual people or events is entirely coincidental. It contains adult
subject matter and should not be read by any minor, person who would find
such material offensive, or if it is illegal in your area. If you meet
these conditions, please delete this file from your computer. This work is
not to be reproduced in any manner without prior approval from the author.
SPOILER ALERT: If you read the original version of this story, you might be
interested in the changes I've made. If you'd like to read them, scroll to
the end. If you'd rather be surprised, wait `til you're finished.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Brian's Visit" was my first story on Nifty, originally
posted seven years ago. Though this version keeps the same plot and
characters, I've made widespread corrections to grammar and text to make
reading easier, such as fixing my bad habit of putting dialogue and
narration in the same paragraph and my apparent inability to use
contractions. Additionally, Brian's character has been fleshed out a bit
and the last chapter contains new information revealing his motivation for
the events chronicled in this story. If you were a fan of the original,
don't worry, nothing fundamental to the design changed, but this one should
be easier on the eyes.
Thanks for all your support!
CHAPTER SEVEN -- MY NEW LIFE
The following morning I struggled to wake up, confused and
disoriented, but lying comfortably in my own bed with no sign of the
others. I was in that satisfying region between slumber and the onset of
full awareness, where the blankets and sheets envelope you in their warm
embrace and you wish they could hold you forever. In due course, however,
consciousness beat back my lethargy and I was soon kicking at the bed
coverings and rubbing my eyes.
After glancing toward the clock, I realized that it was already
well after noon. Attempting to remember what had happened last night, my
mind was flooded with troubling memories, creating a sensation of nausea in
the pit of my stomach as I recalled some of the activities I'd engaged in
just a few hours earlier.
There were enormous gags in my memory of the previous evening.
Even the moments I could recall were hazy and uncertain. I clearly
remembered being told to get cleaned up in the bathroom and standing with
the other guys by the sofa. After drinking something, there was a fracture
in my memory. The next image I could retrieve was of a grubby,
smoke-filled basement and a guy named Kyle, but I couldn't bring to mind
what he looked like. Though uncertain of the precise details, I thought I
remembered an initiation, a test, a hazing ritual of sorts, and in some way
or another it involved me on my knees, sniffing feet. I could see myself
drinking from an extra-large plastic cup, recalling a sense of dread and
suspicion, knowing that I was being drugged.
After that, I couldn't rely upon any of my lingering, muddled
memories; everything else was a jumbled blur. Perhaps the broken fragments
in my mind were true, perhaps not. They were just as likely the result of
a chemically induced nightmare.
My face flushed crimson, even in the isolation of my peaceful
bedroom, when I realized that while searching my memory for clues my dick
had gone hard and that my fingers were gently teasing along the firm, needy
shaft.
I quickly released myself and stood, noticing a folded piece of
paper lying on my nightstand with my name written on it. Knowing that it
was from Brian, I hesitantly picked up the message, opened it, and read...
"We decided to let you sleep in since you had such an exhausting
evening last night. I hope you got some good rest. You needed it! Once
you're ready, feel free to put on some clothes and join us."
Clothes?
I hadn't worn any since late Friday night when I'd been dragged
against my will to an adult bookstore. Since Brian had plainly stated he
intended to keep me naked until Tuesday morning, I couldn't help but
speculate as to why he was suddenly willing to let me get dressed. Still,
I was grateful for the chance to cover my shame and didn't analyze this
gesture for very long, choosing instead to locate some appropriate items
from my dresser. A pair of jeans and a t-shirt would suffice. I didn't
bother with underwear or socks. I had nothing left to hide from these
guys. They'd already seen everything there was to see.
Not knowing what to expect, I opened the door cautiously and placed
one bare foot into the hallway, the sweet smell of burning weed immediately
filling my nostrils. The loud, raucous laughter of my houseguests hit me
like a train, sending a chill down my spine and serving as a reminder of
what I'd done this weekend. Steeling my courage, I straightened my back
and prepared to join the others.
Brian, along with the other four, were scattered around my living
room, all fully dressed save for socks and shoes, passing a blunt between
them while holding various drinks - Brian was partial to beer while Kevin
enjoyed his Jack Daniels. When Brian noticed me, he rose and quickly
walked to where I stood, threw his strong arms around my upper body, and
hugged me tightly.
Though it wasn't the first time Brian had ever put his arms around
me, it wasn't something he commonly did either. It was a gesture he
typically reserved for moments of much needed consolation or
congratulations. And it was the first time he'd done it this weekend.
After all that had happened over the past few days, this bit of fraternal
intimacy made me uncomfortable, especially with the other guys watching.
Initially, I simply stood there, incredibly ill-at-ease, my own arms
hanging lifelessly by my sides. As his embrace became more awkward, I
raised my right hand to his back, patted him gently on the shoulder blade,
and said as politely as I could...
"OK Brian, that's enough..."
His large hands slipped from my torso and he finally spoke.
"I thought you were gonna sleep all day."
"I must've been tired, I guess," I answered sheepishly.
"I'd be tired too if I were you," observed Tim from across the
room. "You were on fire last night!"
"Really," I responded guardedly. "I don't remember much about it."
"Oh my god, it was fucking awesome!" added Kevin enthusiastically.
"Those guys will remember that party for years!"
I wasn't sure I really wanted my next question answered, but part
of me just needed to know. Unless I could fill in the gaps in my memory,
they would haunt me the rest of my life...
"Would someone explain what happened last night?"
"We'll talk about that later," Brian said dismissively. "You must
be starving. Phillip went out this morning to pick up breakfast. We saved
some for you. Head in there and eat. Take your time, there's no rush..."
I took a step toward the kitchen but immediately stopped again.
"You didn't do anything to my food, did you?" I asked timidly.
Brian and the others chuckled at the reservations I now held over
consuming anything they offered me.
"No," he answered flatly before adding, "Do you want us to?"
"Of course not," I answered, already growing flustered. "I was
just checking..."
"Relax, Ricky," said Kevin. "We didn't touch your breakfast this
time. Go on now and eat..."
Though I didn't understand why they were being so nice, it was a
welcome departure from the treatment I'd received so far this weekend.
Brian had been right about my appetite; I was ravenous. After hastily
consuming the breakfast sandwiches and chasing them down with a glass of
orange juice, I walked back to the living room and rejoined the others.
After submissively taking a seat on the floor, I remained uneasily
silent while the others joked and talked, fired up another blunt, and drank
while only half-watching television. Uncertain of what to say and not
wanting to jinx the truce that seemed to have developed among us, I simply
kept my mouth shut.
Eventually, I began to relax and decided to have a beer myself.
The guys did not appear to notice my movements until I returned from the
kitchen. Brian took the bottle from my hand without even rising from the
sofa.
"No beer for you..."
"Why can't I have a beer?" I questioned.
"Because I'd like you to be clear headed for once this weekend,"
Brian explained. "We've got a lot to talk about and I don't want you
drunk. That means no alcohol, no pot, no pills, or anything else until I
decide it's OK. Understand?"
"Yes Sir," I answered, addressing him respectfully out of habit.
"But will someone tell me what happened last night? I can't remember much
at all, just bits and pieces..."
"We can do better than that," said Tim with a sly grin. "We can
show you the whole night. Remember, we took your camera..."
Brian picked up where Tim left off and continued...
"That's why I don't want you to drink. I want you sober for this.
I've already transferred the footage to a DVD and it's in the player now.
Just sit on the couch between me and Tim and we'll watch it..."
My emotions were a jumble at this point. I was well beyond
apprehensive at the prospect of watching what I had done last night in
Jesse's basement, but also incredibly curious. After glancing around the
room at the other guys and fidgeting nervously for a few moments, I
squeezed my body between the two men and watched as the DVD record of my
activities began to play.
The video began with me drinking the cocktail I'd been given prior
to leaving for the party. Suddenly, my recorded self began talking like a
whore while watching some of the footage from Saturday night. A burning
wave of heat swept over my face as I listened to the endless stream of
filth that spewed from my mouth. The crude, foul language and obscenities
seemed incompatible with my innocent-looking features.
Wobbly, hand-held, amateurish footage then revealed the six of us
walking to my car before the screen went dark for a second. When the
picture returned, I was in the backseat, sitting on Tim's lap while
passionately fingering myself, my legs spread wide with my ankles hooked
over the front seat headrests, my face nestled in Tim's moist armpit. The
shock on my face was apparent and the guys watching with me laughed at my
reaction to this degrading display. Had this not been so humiliating, I
might have laughed with them, such was the extent of how foolish I looked
performing this shameful act.
After another gap in footage, the fake fraternity ritual was
already in progress. Naked and on my knees, I was obediently sniffing the
feet of several guys sitting on an old, worn basement sofa. On screen, I
was being encouraged to drink from a cup prepared by Tim. From this point
on, everything we watched was wholly new to me, all memories beyond that
beverage fully erased.
Then I witnessed myself standing in the middle of the basement,
sniffing someone's sock. Jesse was yelling at me, his words pure filth,
and it honestly appeared that I was getting into the rank cloth shoved
against my nose. Without warning, massive ropes of spooge were spewing all
over the room.
I had gotten to cum!
THEY HAD LET ME CUM AND I COULDN'T EVEN REMEMBER IT!!
My cock swelled in the confines of my jeans, inching down my thigh
at the sight of me slinging fucksnot all over the room without even
touching my drippy meat. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before.
Sure, sometimes while masturbating I'd decide too late that I wasn't ready
to cum yet then remove my hand only to have the fucker go off on its own.
And as many times as Brian had gotten me close this weekend, I definitely
knew it was POSSIBLE to cum without using my hands; he'd just never allowed
it to happen. This time, however, I'd actually gone over the edge without
any direct manipulation of any kind prior to ejaculating.
Despite how humiliated I felt, I couldn't help but wonder if that
kind of orgasm was something I could replicate later on, maybe once the
guys left and I was alone. Or maybe, if I could learn to trust this new
Brian, I could just ask him to teach me how to do it. He seemed to be
knowledgeable about these kinds of things. It would probably take some
practice, but it might be worth it.
As these thoughts raced through my mind, Tim casually crossed his
legs, which brought his foot up and into my field of vision, the huge,
smooth, bare sole facing me, his toes gently touching my denim-covered
thigh, flexing and relaxing absent-mindedly. My dick involuntarily tensed
and hocked the first slug of precum into my jeans.
If I wasn't careful, I'd cum just sitting here.
As we continued to watch the video, I was on my knees sucking
Kyle's prick while some guy I didn't know fucked my upturned ass. I
shifted position on the couch self-consciously, my dick swelling further as
additional pressure built in the organ, causing it to pulsate
uncontrollably. Glancing down, I realized the bobbing movements of my
erection were conspicuously visible. And now that I was leaking freely, it
was only a matter of time before I left a stain.
The guys were uncommonly silent, allowing me to take in this
humiliation undisturbed, without jokes or commentary. I watched as man
after man violated my openings, both mouth and ass. Captured on camera,
Brian was trying to talk the guys into saving their jizz for my ass instead
of "wasting it" in my throat. After my fifth fuck, I was dragged to the
air hockey table and hoisted onto it, positioned on my back. A brief
flashback of cold air blowing across my torso provided additional
confirmation that this had actually happened. As the sixth guy crammed
into me, the camera zoomed in close. Jizz was beginning to trickle from my
ass, my fucker's shaft sending it flying off in all directions. I had
become a hole to use, nothing more, and the longer this continued, the
rowdier these guys seemed to become. Those who had been disinclined to
fuck me earlier were now warming to the idea, a pack mentality having taken
root. This sixth cock tensed suddenly, releasing a volley of warm swimmers
into my sloppy cunt, the individual contractions of his jizz tube
unambiguous and distinct as his spooge was catapulted upward inside the
cylinder. When he withdrew his cock, the deposited cum flowed forth like a
stream, the gushing only stopped by the plug provided by dick number seven.
"I think that's me..." noted Brian as he poked me with his elbow.
"It is," I whispered, immediately wishing I hadn't.
"How do you know?" he asked. "I thought you couldn't remember what
happened last night."
"Well, you know, I...I recognize it."
There was a fleeting moment of silence before the living room
erupted in laughter. Tim was clutching at his sides, clearly giddy from
the weed he'd been smoking. Personally, I didn't think it was all that
funny; as much as I'd seen it these past few days, it was no wonder I had
it memorized.
"I'm sorry we laughed," apologized Brian. "Guys, let's give Ricky
a chance to finish watching his movie in peace..."
After Brian shot his load inside me, numbers eight and nine
provided a break from the rapid thrusting of my earlier tops, both choosing
instead to fuck long and slow. I couldn't believe the amount of semen that
continued to escape from my hole, even during these more moderately-paced
fucks. I was reasonably certain that guys ten and eleven were Brad and
Phillip respectively, but wasn't foolish enough to say that out loud.
Beginning with number twelve, it appeared that I had come out of my
drug-induced haze. Though clearly still fucked up, I was more animated and
enjoying what was happening - wailing and moaning and hurling foul
language, encouraging the guys to fuck me harder, deeper, longer, faster,
and even going so far as to tell them how much I wanted their slippery
spooge inside me. I closed my eyes as I listened once again to the filth
coming from my mouth, very nearly asking Brian to stop the playback.
Despite how slutty I looked, I couldn't deny my current state of arousal
and I had to know what happened next.
Fucks thirteen through seventeen were guys I didn't recognize but
they too contributed to the collection of jizz filling my on-screen cunt.
I now knew why movies like this are sometimes called "cream pies"; a guy
couldn't pull out his cock anymore without a river of sticky fluids flowing
from the gaping orifice.
Number seventeen was Kyle; I didn't recognize his cock, I just
happened to hear his name mentioned on the recording. I'd already sucked
him off earlier in the evening and thought that he'd forgiven me for my
indiscretion with his foot. But he was grudge fucking me viciously,
apparently still mad that I'd sucked his toes, embarrassing him in front of
his friends. I glanced down to my jeans and noticed a massive, damp spot
forming near the head of my cock where it pressed against the denim. It
twitched inside its prison when the next guy saddled up to my ass.
This time it was Kevin. His large, uncut cock filled me to
capacity in a single, swift, fluid motion, stuffing the cavity so fully
that there was no room for the loads previously emptied into me. Absurd
amounts of sticky white semen oozed from around his sizeable shaft as he
began to thrust in earnest. My own voice haunted me as I listened to the
vulgar language I was using, begging Kevin to empty inside me as well.
Tim was up next, number nineteen. I could barely stand this
anymore and knew that if I watched very much more I would cum in my jeans.
I could only hope there weren't many guys left.
As it turned out, there was only one more -- Jesse himself. I was
pulled off the table, cum-drooze leaking from my abused cunt, and escorted
to where he sat on the couch. My mouth fell open as I watched myself
voluntarily position my ass over his tree trunk of a pole. He didn't move
at all, didn't encourage or force me in any way, but I still lowered myself
onto him and began to bounce up and down like a whore in a cheap porno. A
close up of my ass provided proof that I was taking his cock balls deep
with each rise and fall. His nuts slowly started to draw up, tighter and
tighter, until at last his dick began to twitch in my ass, coating my
insides with his own slippery semen.
As a final shame, he pushed me off both his cock and the couch,
forcing me to fall backward onto the floor, far too exhausted and high to
move.
The screen went dark...
"Get up and stand in the middle of the room!" barked Brian as he
and Tim pushed me to my feet.
I stood on shaky legs, my cock still throbbing behind the damp,
discolored denim, my unyielding erection obvious. It was positioned badly
inside my jeans, pointed awkwardly down and lifting the fabric as it
attempted to stand upright. It desperately needed to be adjusted, but I
feared touching it might cause me to orgasm. So I simply stood and waited
for Brian to engage me in conversation. The others patiently sat,
scrutinizing my emotional and physical struggle.
"How did you like your little movie?" Brian asked.
"You shouldn't have forced me do those things," I answered.
"We didn't force you to do shit," he immediately corrected. "In
fact, by the end of the evening you were enjoying it more than anybody I've
ever fucked. I don't guess you remember me putting you to bed last night?"
I shook my head to indicate that I didn't.
"First, Tim helped me clean you up a bit with a warm washcloth and
get you back to the bedroom. Once I got you settled, I got undressed
myself and crawled in beside you. Before I went to sleep, I wanted to
check one last time to make sure you were OK. You woke up for a few
minutes and even after everything you'd just been through, you asked me to
fuck you -- AGAIN!"
He allowed his words to hang in the air uncomfortably before
finishing his thought...
"I've been with some wild bottoms since I came out, Ricky. But
goddamn, you take the cake..."
Heat rushed to the skin of my face; I blushed at the thought of
lying in bed alone with Brian. This feeling of embarrassment increased
when I imagined myself asking him to fuck me without being pressured or
coerced into it.
"Did you?" I asked quietly.
"Did I what?"
"Did you fuck me?"
"No, I did not," he said emphatically. "You needed to sleep!"
"I never would have acted that way if you guys hadn't drugged me."
"Well, you're not drugged now - no alcohol, no weed, no pills. How
do you account for that hard, drippy dick in your pants?"
"We just finished watching a fucking sex video!" I argued. "What
did you expect? You're probably hard too..."
"Actually, I'm not," he stated with a devious smile.
"You're not?" I asked in disbelief. "You've been getting off on
this shit all weekend! If it wasn't for you, none of this would've
happened..."
"I'm telling you, I'm not hard," he repeated calmly. "Do you wanna
see for yourself? Is that it? Is this some kinda trick to get me to take
off my shorts?"
There were a few snickers from the others in response to Brian's
gentle teasing, reminding me of their continued presence.
"Of course not," I stammered, growing increasingly flustered.
"Well here, let me settle this once and for all."
He rose and unbuttoned his shorts, letting them fall into a heap
around his bare feet before stepping from them. He was right. His
uncircumcised penis was entirely soft. Though it remained beautiful and
elegant, as if it belonged on a Greek statue, it was absolutely limp.
"There!" he said smugly. "Are you satisfied?"
I couldn't stop looking and simply stood, silent and transfixed.
Brian's cock looked amazing, draped loosely over his hefty, over-stuffed
scrotum. Given how often I'd seen his junk over the past few days, it was
odd that I only now noticed the way one fleshy testicle dangled
significantly lower than its twin, swinging gently as he stood by the sofa
shifting his weight between his feet. My mouth began to moisten and I
zoned out for a moment prior to detecting an irritating, distracting noise.
"Earth to Ricky...Earth to Ricky..." he was repeating while
snapping his fingers. "Are you staring at my penis?"
I abruptly looked upward, reluctantly tearing my eyes from his
crotch, mortified that I'd just been caught stealing an extra long look.
"No," I obviously lied. "I was just...well, I don't know..."
"I bet you'd like to see these other guys naked too, wouldn't you?"
he taunted. Then, after looking casually around the room at my other
houseguests, he added, "Guys, if you don't mind, go ahead and show him..."
The four other guys scattered about the living room began to shuck
off their clothing at the same time, each exposing soft, droopy dicks.
Once again, I stared far too long, but managed to catch myself before Brian
said anything. My own rigid cock flexed involuntarily inside the denim of
my jeans, painfully pointed down my thigh, and I knew everyone noticed the
jerky, bouncing motion under the fabric. More sticky juice dripped from my
slit, causing the spot to expand.
"See," Brian spoke with a self-satisfied tone in his voice.
"Nobody's hard but you. Why do you think that is?"
"I don't know," I answered honestly.
"Don't lie to me. We've been through too much together this
weekend. You need to be honest; not just for us, but for yourself. You
know exactly why your dick is hard and you need to tell us. Did you think
your movie was hot?"
"I told you, I don't know," I answered, becoming increasingly
confused by this line of questioning and my body's physical response to it.
"Yes...well, maybe...I don't know..."
"Unzip your fly and pull your dick out," he ordered. "It looks
painful in that position. Besides, I wanna look at it while we talk."
Hesitantly, I lowered my zipper and reached inside, wrapping my
fingers around my throbbing erection and flipping it out into the open.
After bobbing and flexing uncontrollably for a few seconds, it then started
to ooze and seep in earnest, creating a strand of goo at least six inches
in length before Brian could even ask his next question...
"Looks like you're more than just a little hot," he observed. "You
look horny as fuck. Now tell me, why is that?"
"Please, don't do this," I begged.
"Don't do what?"
"Don't make me say it..."
"I'm not gonna MAKE you say anything. But you NEED to get this off
your chest, kinda like therapy, like an intervention. The hardest things
to say are usually the ones we need to say the most, to speak out loud, to
admit candidly. Believe me, I know -- I had to make that admission myself,
remember? And I was miserable until I did, just like you are right now.
Didn't you tell me Friday night how much you hate the direction your life
is taking?"
"Well, I didn't put it quite that way. But yeah..."
"There's a reason for that, dude. You're not being yourself. For
god's sake, Ricky, I've known you for seven years and I've been with you
all weekend. I know what you need to say and I'm just giving you the
opportunity to be honest with yourself, to be honest with us. You aren't
really hiding anything. Just look at your cock..."
I knew in my heart that he was speaking the truth. Since Brian's
arrival, since he'd brought these feelings inside me to the surface, I'd
had a chance to re-evaluate many of the earlier events in my life. I'd
examined previous failed relationships, my fascination with the male body,
as well as the admittedly odd attachment to Brian that I felt during our
time as roommates. Many of the most perplexing portions of my life and
personality, my psychological build, suddenly made sense. I knew that I
would have to deal with this realization eventually, but I was still not
prepared to do it like this -- not here, not now.
So instead, I stubbornly dug in my heels and refused to give him
the satisfaction, choosing to remain silent rather than say something I'd
regret.
"Brian," interrupted Tim, his voice quiet and unusually somber. "I
think you need to tell him what you told us. He deserves to know. And it
might make this easier..."
"What?" I asked. "What did you tell them?"
Brian sighed deeply and his lips tensed as he leaned forward on the
sofa. His eyes were kind and warm, almost compassionate, giving me the
impression that this would be important...
"I told them the same thing I've been trying to tell you all
weekend. Each time I tried, you kept saying that you didn't wanna hear it.
You can't imagine how long I've needed to tell you this..."
"OK, fine -- what is it?"
"How long were we roommates in college?" he asked.
"The whole four years, but..."
"Exactly," he interrupted. "And how many other guys did we know
who stayed with the same roommate the entire time they were in school?"
I had to think for moment.
"None," I answered. "Not that I can remember..."
"That's right. Do you know why we stayed together?"
"We got along well," I answered with a shrug of my shoulders. "Our
personalities fit..."
"Yeah, that's true. But there's more..."
Brian looked almost uncomfortable, his fingers interlaced and
fidgeting nervously, staring at the floor as he prepared to finish his
thought.
"Go on, dude," prompted Kevin in a hushed whisper. "Tell him..."
Brian lifted his head, staring directly at me when he spoke.
"I liked you," he said.
"So, I liked you too..."
"No, I REALLY liked you," he quickly elaborated.
The room fell eerily silent and every eye in it focused on me,
attempting to gauge my reaction. Stunned by his admission, my mouth fell
open as I tried to process this latest information. It didn't make any
sense. I'd figured out that Brian was gay after Friday night, but I'd
written off his actions over the weekend as the result of simple horniness,
or maybe that the years since we last saw one another had turned him into a
mean son-of-a-bitch. The suggestion that he harbored feelings toward me
was foreign in the extreme. More baffling still was the notion that he had
felt this way even while we were in college.
The thought made my cock pulse and the strand of precum dangling
from it broke suddenly, sending a drop of glistening goo into my carpet.
When I refused to speak, he continued...
"Do you remember how we used to jerk off together?"
"Yeah, I remember..."
"Do you remember how many times we did it?"
"No, not really..."
"Twenty-seven," he answered at once, without a moment's hesitation,
as if the number was eternally seared in his memory. "We jerked off
together twenty-seven times, not counting the times we did it when we
thought the other was asleep. I'm only talking about the times we did it
together."
"You counted?" I asked incredulously.
"Well, not at first," he admitted. "But after the fourth or fifth
time, I started keeping track..."
"Why would you do that?"
"I enjoyed it," he answered flatly. "But I felt guilty about
enjoying it, just like you feel guilty now. The first time was on
September 22nd. We were juniors and we'd just gotten back from some party.
It was getting late, going on 1:00 AM, and we were both drunk and a little
high. It just kinda happened. Do you remember?"
"Vaguely..." I answered candidly. This had obviously meant more to
him at the time than it did to me.
"I remember. I remember every detail. I also remember being so
upset with myself for letting it happen that it took three months for us to
do it again. But once we started doing it more often, I noticed
something..."
"What?"
"I noticed how you looked at me when we jerked off together. I
mean, you stared, like you couldn't keep your eyes off me. I was stupid
and inexperienced and didn't know a whole lot about what was happening, but
I still noticed. You would even let me set the pace. You'd get really
close, but always stopped when I stopped. If I took my hand away, you'd do
the same, like you didn't wanna cum before I did."
Another bead of precum slipped from my dick, soaking into the
carpet just like the first. Brian continued...
"If I'd known then what I know now, I'd have tried to talk you into
doing more than just jerking off. But we were both just stupid kids so I
didn't. I guess I needed to grow up a little first..."
"What happened to change your mind?" I asked, having completely
forgotten about the other four guys in the room. This conversation was now
between us and no one else even existed.
"We graduated!" Brian said ardently. "That's what happened. It's
amazing how much a person changes in the first few years out of college.
Once I moved, I met someone. He was a lot like you. Suddenly, the pieces
of the puzzle just fell into place, everything made sense. My only regret
was that I didn't understand all this while we lived together..."
I swallowed hard before speaking.
"So that's why you came back?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"Not entirely," Brian admitted. "I really did get fired. And I
really did ask several other guys to put me up before calling you. I just
wasn't sure I'd be able to stay with you, knowing what I know now. But
then, after seeing how you acted Friday night out on the deck, it was
obvious. You wanted me just as much as I wanted you..."
This was all too much. I felt dizzy despite the fact that I was
entirely sober and drug free. My heart felt like it was about to fly from
my chest and my cock began to gyrate wildly as it protruded from my open
zipper, dripping as freely as ever.
Brian continued...
"Ricky, I'm tired of playing games. I've just admitted something
very personal. Now it's your turn. Why don't you own up to how exciting
what we've done this weekend has been for you?"
His moment of truthfulness having passed, his smirky grin returned.
Brian sank backward into the sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table,
wiggling his toes seductively in my direction.
My dick leapt in response, shaking loose more prejizz.
"Bastard," I spat out.
Brian grinned mischievously when he heard my response.
"Yeah, you're right. I am a bastard," he said proudly, as if he
accepted the term as a badge of honor. "And you always point that out when
you're losing an argument. But that won't get you off the hook this time.
Tell me something we did this weekend that got you really hot..."
"Brian, I don't wanna do this, not in front of the others. Please
just let this..."
He cut me off before the end of my sentence, yelling loudly. The
sudden change in his demeanor startled me, making me jump and causing
precum to sling off the tip of my sloppy, wet erection.
"DAMN!" he shouted. "You're aggravating as fuck when you're not
high! Tell me, NOW!!!"
"...Your feet!" I answered without missing a beat, my voice filled
with resignation. "OK, are you satisfied? I love your feet."
"That's a good start. It gets the ball rolling. Let's pursue that
a bit further. Whose feet in this room do you like the most? Hold `em up
guys so he can see..."
I closed my eyes for a second, not wanting to look, knowing what it
would do to me. When I finally re-opened them, I saw five pair of naked
feet, soles facing toward me, playfully wagging in the air. Brian had done
this to me once already this weekend, making me choose my favorite. Since
he knew it got under my skin, I assumed he wanted to watch me squirm again.
My cock spasmed, jumping at least two or three inches, now completely
vertical, before ejecting another strand of prefuck to the floor. For a
moment, I feared I was about to cum.
Truthfully, I didn't even need to look. I knew the answer...
"We've been through this before, Brian. Tim's are the nicest. I
mean, to me," I responded in a hushed voice.
No one spoke, which left me standing there awkwardly in the silence
of my admission. I eventually added...
"I'm sorry if you wanted me to pick yours..."
"I'm not insulted," Brian said calmly with a quick shake of his
head. "At least you're finally talking to me and being honest. Why do you
think Tim's are the nicest?"
"I don't know," I whined. "They just are..."
"If you think about it for a minute, you can come up with a few
reasons. Go ahead, look at `em and take your time. We're not going
anywhere until you tell me why..."
I took another look at Tim's massive feet and tried to straighten
out the thoughts running through my mind, tried to put into words why these
feet, above all the others, seemed so hot to me.
"Well, they're bigger than anyone else's, for one..."
"Good, go on..."
My erection pulsed vigorously, spurred on by the intensifying
spasms in my groin. As I stared, my mind fully engaged in this task. When
I spoke again, my hands began to gesture as I further explained why I like
them so much.
"Maybe it's not just that they're so big. They're long and kinda
tapered, you know, narrow..."
"What else?"
"They look strong. Oh, and I like the shape of his toes,
especially from this angle. And the smell kinda reminds me of a locker
room."
"Do locker rooms excite you?"
My defenses were falling. Everyone in the room knew I was about to
break, myself included.
"Yeah, they do," I admitted.
"Why is that?"
"I don't know. They just do, alright!"
"It's all the naked guys, isn't it? It's all that cock swinging
around?"
At that precise moment, with that clear, unambiguous question, I
gave up. It was over, my constant resistance doomed to failure. I was
broken, no longer possessing the pigheaded, determined tenacity to continue
this struggle. After lifting my head, I stared into his eyes before
speaking in calm, deliberate, and most importantly, truthful words...
"Yeah, that's the reason..."
"Now we're getting somewhere," Brian responded, seemingly aware
that the bulk of my emotional battle was behind me. "So, let's get back to
the movie. Seeing all those naked guys got you hot?"
"Yeah, it got me excited," I admitted. "That's why I'm so hard."
My balls began to tighten and I winced at the sensation of them
pulling up against the base of my cock.
"Was it just the naked guys or what we were doing to you?"
"I liked what you were doing to me, too."
My knees began to shake and I felt perspiration begin to trickle
down my forehead. Though these admissions were honest, this was still a
lot for me to take in at once.
"Seeing the five of us sitting here naked must be difficult for
you, isn't it?"
"Not difficult, I like it..."
My cock bounced energetically, almost as if it was attempting to
affirm this confession.
"You like what?"
"I like seeing you guys naked."
The muscles deep inside my groin began to pulse and contract. I
could feel an orgasm building within me and attempted to suppress it.
Though I did want to try for another hands-free orgasm eventually, I didn't
want to shoot like this, not under these conditions.
"Would you like for us to do those things again, maybe right now?
Do you want us to fuck you again?"
"Yes," I answered quickly, without really thinking. Once I
realized what I'd just said, I attempted to do an about face. "I mean, I'm
not sure. You're confusing me!"
"You're not confused, you're just stubborn..."
Brian paused for a moment, appearing frustrated and trying to
choose his words carefully. I wasn't expecting hear what he said next.
"Listen. This is getting to be more trouble than it's worth. If
you want us to leave, just say so. I've talked to Tim and he's agreed to
let me crash at his place until I can get on my feet. We could all be out
of your house in the next sixty seconds. I'll leave the videos and you can
do whatever you want with them. Then you can go back to the rut you kept
complaining about Friday night. But if I leave, I'm not coming back..."
What an incredible deal! In less than a minute, I could be rid of
all of them, done with this ordeal forever. But did I really want that?
My mind was swimming and went into overdrive, contemplating all the various
factors, trying to sort out what I wanted. This was an impossible choice.
Asking them to stay meant giving tacit approval to everything that had
happened; in fact, I would be asking for more of the same. On the other
hand, asking them to leave would mean closing the door on some exhilarating
new discoveries I'd make about myself this weekend. How could I decide? I
couldn't decide. I stood frozen in the middle of the room, my cock bobbing
and weaving and leaking on the floor as I tried to come to some sort of
conclusion, to come to terms with my feelings.
Brian sensed my internal struggle and broke the tension with a new
offer...
"Ricky, look at me. I think the problem is that you don't wanna
say the words out loud. You don't wanna have to ask for it. So here's
what I propose. If you want us to leave, don't say anything. Just stand
there with your drippy dick for a minute. We'll get the hint and leave.
But if you want us to stay, walk to the bathroom, clean yourself up the way
I taught you, and walk back out here naked. That way, maybe you won't feel
as embarrassed..."
Confused and stunned, I simply stood there, waiting for the answer
to come to me, the correct course of action to suddenly pop into my head.
The longer I continued to stand, the more nervous I became. Finally, I
realized I'd waited too long. Brian reached behind the sofa and grabbed
his bag. After flashing me a disappointed, almost pained smile, he started
to rise.
"Come on guys," he said to the others, "Let's get dressed. We're
leaving."
"Wait!" I practically yelled.
He lifted his head and stared at me expectantly, his eyes drilling
right through my soul.
Without a word, I turned and began to march toward the bathroom.
The walk between my couch and hall bathroom had never before seemed
so long. It was like taking a journey to an unknown destination, where I
had no idea what I'd find. All I knew was that I NEEDED to make that
journey, NEEDED to take that risk. There would be time for analysis later.
I didn't need all my questions answered now. Brian and I could discuss
this in more detail once we were alone. I'd taken a gigantic step, finally
admitting what I wanted.
And what I wanted was Brian...
After removing my clothes and submissively dealing with hygiene, I
took a deep breath and stepped back into the hall, my hard prick leading
the way to the living room.
I cautiously approached the sofa where Brian and Tim still sat,
completely nude and chatting casually while passing what remained of a
blunt between them. I waited for instructions, having no idea how to
proceed without his help. After a moment, I passively sat on the floor
near his feet.
"You're still nervous," he observed. "Would you like to rub my
feet for a while?"
"Yeah, I'd love to..."
"Good boy," he said with a smile. "But throw the word `Sir' in
there every now and then when you're talking to me. You don't need to say
it every time, just often enough to be respectful. Besides, I kinda liked
hearing you call Jesse that last night..."
"Yes Sir."
Several minutes into his massage, I turned my head and looked
around the room, noticing for the first time that Kevin, Phillip, and Brad
were gone.
"Hey, where are the other guys?" I asked.
"Oh, they left while you were in the bathroom."
"Why?"
"Well, I think after the conversation turned to how I felt about
you, it made Brad and Phillip kinda uncomfortable. Kevin seemed fine but
since they had all rode together, he had to go with `em."
"Oh, OK," I responded. After a short period of silence, I looked
up at Tim and added, "So why are you still here?"
Though it hadn't been my intent, the question came out sounding as
if it was just dripping with attitude.
"Mind your tongue, boy," Brian quickly corrected. "Tim is still a
guest in this house."
He then turned to face Tim, made a curious expression, and said,
"But since the cat's outta the bag, why ARE you still here?"
"Dude, I don't care if you two have feelings for each other. This
has been the wildest weekend of my life and I'd like to stay a while longer
if that's OK."
Both guys stopped speaking for a few moments while I continued
Brian's massage. He kept glancing toward our guest in a way I'd never seen
before.
"No offense, Tim," he finally spoke. "But I'm not sure I want you
here tonight. I was planning on having some bonding time with Ricky this
evening and I'm afraid you and your big-ass feet will just be a
distraction."
"Oh, OK then..." Tim answered politely. "I guess I should've taken
the hint. But maybe I can call you guys later and we can do this again
some time."
I noticed Brian raise one hand to his head and scratch his scalp
absent-mindedly while his face contorted into an unpleasant expression.
"Look, Tim -- this weekend has been hot. But it's also been really
unusual and might have given you the wrong impression about the kinda guy I
am. I don't typically share my boys, especially this one."
"I can understand that," Tim replied, sounding unmistakably
depressed. "Well, shit! I was looking forward to spending some more time
with you guys."
Brian narrowed his eyes slightly when he detected the strange tone
in Tim's voice. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of mischief his brain
was contemplating. I didn't have to wait long for an answer.
"Well, if you're that interested in coming back over to spend time
with us, I wouldn't turn down having two boys to play with..."
Tim looked like he'd just been slapped in the face. Stunned into
silence, it took him several tongue-tied seconds before he could answer.
While chuckling nervously, he said...
"You can't be serious! Me? Act like him? No way, dude, no
fucking way!"
"You wouldn't be doing the exact same things as Ricky. I don't
think you'd like them. You're not as naturally submissive as he is..."
"What do you mean by `naturally submissive'?"
"Let me try to explain. Back when we were in school, I discovered
pretty fast that Ricky doesn't like to make decisions on his own. Shit, it
was like pulling teeth just trying to get his honest opinion about
something. Tell him, Ricky. Who decided how we spent our free time back
then?"
"It was usually you, Sir."
"Usually my ass, it was ALWAYS me. And whenever we had to drive
anywhere, whose car did we take? Who drove?"
I considered his question for a second as my fingers dug into his
warm, fleshy soles.
"You know, I never really thought about that before, but it was
you. You always drove. Even that one time when your car was in the shop
and we had to use mine, you'd always drive."
"Exactly! I was always in the driver's seat, literally and
figuratively. Tim, one semester he even let me pick out his classes for
him. Since then, I've discovered that there tends to be a relationship
between how passive a guy is in general and how submissive he'll be when it
comes to sex. It's not true in every case but there does seem to be a
connection."
"Ah, but I'm not like that," Tim pointed out, seeming a bit proud
of that fact.
"No, you're not. That doesn't mean you couldn't enjoy a little
guy-on-guy experimenting, thought. It's just that your experience would be
different from Ricky's. I mean, you wouldn't take to sucking my cock
nearly as fast as he did..."
From everything I'd learned about Tim since late Friday night, I
fully expected him to bolt off the couch, grab his clothes, and head for
the door as fast as possible. Amazingly, this did not happen. Instead, a
full five minutes passed without anyone in the room saying a word, the
tension almost unbearable, as he sat there and considered what Brian was
proposing.
I jumped slightly when he finally spoke again.
"So how would this work, exactly? You wouldn't treat me the same
way we've treated him all weekend, would you? Because I just don't think I
could take that..."
"No, no, no," Brian answered hastily. "Actually, I rarely ever get
as rough as I was this weekend unless the boy really likes it, you know,
like he does. If the three of us hooked up again, our arrangement would be
different. We'd focus on just having a bit of playful fun. But the roles
would be clear. Both of you would be servicing me."
"You're really serious, aren't you?"
"Hell yeah, I'm serious," Brian said emphatically. "You don't know
what you're missing, dude. Tell him, Ricky..."
"Well, I like it, but I'm not sure he would..."
Brian rolled his eyes at me.
"That wasn't very helpful, Ricky. Besides, you just wanna be the
center of attention."
"Brian," Tim began. "Maybe he's right. I don't think I could do
that..."
"It's your loss, dude. I mean, you had fun this weekend, didn't
you?"
"Yeah..."
"Fuck yeah, you did! And it was while doing things you'd probably
never thought about before. Am I right?"
"That's true..."
"It would just be three guys hanging out and enjoying being with
each other. What's the big fucking deal?"
"Well, maybe..."
"Look, Tim -- I'm not trying to talk you into something you don't
wanna do. Besides, it's getting late and Ricky has to work tomorrow. And
we still haven't had any alone time today. Why don't you just go on home,
think about it, and if you decide you wanna come over and play then gimme a
call? OK?"
"Sure, OK -- I'll think about it."
As he rose and began to get dressed, Brian offered another
suggestion.
"And why don't you take that bag from the bookstore home with you
too? Ricky doesn't need any of that stuff anymore and it'll give you a
chance to experiment some in the privacy of your own bedroom while you're
making your decision."
Tim laughed out loud.
"You want me to put something up my ass?"
"Hey, if you become our new fuck buddy, you'll have to eventually.
It's better to go at your own pace than have somebody just shove something
up there. Isn't that right, Ricky?"
"Tim, he's telling the truth about that."
Brian tore his feet from my hands and stood to walk our pizza guy
to the door. I was astonished to see that Tim was actually holding the bag
containing the sex toys from the store. Just before he left, he turned to
me.
"Bye Ricky. You guys have fun tonight."
"Thanks," I responded out of courtesy. "You too..."
"One more thing, Tim," added Brian. "Feel free to give us a call,
but only if you're serious about going through with it. I mean it..."
I heard the door shut and saw Brian walk smugly back into the
living room.
"I think I'm gonna like living here," he stated, clearly full of
himself. "Shit, I could start myself a little boy harem..."
"We will N-E-V-E-R see him again, Brian," I said with a chuckle.
"Ahhhhh, it got rid of him, didn't it?" he answered dismissively.
"And don't be so sure, dude. I have a way with people. If I had to put
money on it, I'd bet that he DOES call, but not for three or four weeks."
He moved back toward the sofa, made himself comfortable, and
motioned for me to join him. Once I was seated beside him, his arm draped
over my shoulder and pulled me close. After a moment or two enjoying this
warm intimacy, I decided to say something that had been weighing on my
mind.
"Sir, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to act around you."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you keep calling me your `boy' and I'm OK with that. But
I'm not sure what that means in a practical sense. How is a `boy' supposed
to act? How do I relate to you on a day-to-day basis?"
Brian grinned at me, apparently amused by my lack of experience in
such matters.
"Here, I'll explain it to you. You take cues for your own behavior
based on mine. Like right now, for instance. We're just sitting here,
enjoying each other's company, having a friendly conversation. Do you like
the way this feels?"
"Yeah, actually this is really nice..."
"Well, during times like this, just be yourself. I'm still in
charge, of course. But you don't need to act any more or less submissive
than you did back when we were roommates. If I start to act more
demanding, more aggressive, then you should adjust your behavior
accordingly. It sounds more complicated than it is. Believe me, Ricky --
you'll pick it up fast."
"OK -- well, what do we do now?"
"Let's go to bed. Come on. Help me clean up a bit. Then we can
lock up and turn out the lights. We won't be coming back in here."
Brian quickly stood, grabbed a few beer bottles from the coffee
table, and headed for the kitchen, apparently on a mission to tidy up
before we moved to the bedroom.
"It's not even seven o'clock yet," I complained.
He stopped suddenly, laughed out loud, and flashed me one of his
famous smiles.
"We're not going to sleep, dude..."
I can't remember ever cleaning the living room so quickly.
THE END (Well, for now anyway -- Chapters eight and nine are in the works).
GENERAL CHANGES
1. Broke up large sections of text into more manageable sizes for reading.
2. Reduced the number of occurrences of the epitaph "faggot". It is still
used frequently, since this is a rather aggressive story.
3. Eliminated a few inconsistencies I found during this editing pass. For
example, in the original version, I referred to the living room in some
places as being carpeted and in others as being hard wood.
4. Updated the types of technologies employed. The instant camera and
"stack" of pictures becomes a digital camera with a media library. The
video camera no longer uses tapes.
SPOILER ALERT!!!!
CHAPTER SPECIFIC CHANGES
Chapter one -- The pornography Ricky finds in Brian's backpack in
specifically bondage related.
Chapter one -- Brian now has an actual reason for becoming so aggressive
with Ricky, which results in his actions now making a bit more sense.
Chapter two -- Added a paragraph for Tim regarding his feet where he
doesn't want to take his shoes off.
Chapter three -- Removed the roofie from the plot in this chapter. It is
now referred to as "a little something to relax him". With everything else
Ricky took that night, a roofie would have probably killed him.
Chapter three -- The end of chapter three (and the beginning of chapter
four) has been modified to provide more motivation for Brian's character
and to add an extra layer to the plot.
Chapter four -- The dialogue in the bathroom (during Ricky's cleansing) has
been changed somewhat to add some additional dimension to Brian's
character.
Chapter five -- Instead of the edging session being based on the length of
a video tape, Ricky now has to masturbate until Jesse arrives (still
without having an orgasm). This adds an additional element of uncertainty
to his ordeal, since he has no idea when that will be.
Chapter six -- The first five pages of this chapter contained some of the
worst paragraphs and poorly constructed sentences I've ever composed.
(Remember, this was my first work of fiction). Though they still say
essentially the same thing, they have been almost completely re-written and
are now less awkward.
Chapter six -- The paragraph where Ricky urinates on the deck while still
in bondage has been removed. Its purpose was to illustrate his
overwhelming feeling of not being in control and this humiliating act
accomplished that. However, it interrupted the flow and, since there is
ample humiliation elsewhere, I decided to delete it.
Chapter six -- The section where Ricky falls under the initial effects of
the drug works much better now. The reader will, I hope, now be able to
understand to a greater degree what he was feeling at this moment. While
he is baked, he and Brian share a kiss, though it's more of a demonstration
of how high he feels than romantic.
Chapter six -- There was an occasional problem with the narration in this
chapter where I'd slip rather clumsily between genuine past-tense
exposition and the real-time thoughts going on inside Ricky's head. I
think I've cleaned this up sufficiently or at least provided the reader
clues as to what is going on.
Chapter seven -- OK guys, I gotta be honest. When I wrote chapter this
chapter originally, my heart wasn't in it. Truthfully, I finished the
story so I'd stop getting emails asking me to finish the story...my bad.
When I read it again for this edit, I realized how terrible it was! It was
almost as if I was high when I wrote it; frequent spelling and grammar
mistakes, omitted words, virtually unreadable in spots. I'm not even sure
I proofed it before posting. Most of that should be fixed now.
Additionally, there is some extra material that explains Brian's motivation
for everything he has done to Ricky over the course of this weekend. The
first half has been heavily revised and the second half discarded in favor
of new material that will lead into the chapters to come.
Thanks for all the encouragement! Keep reading!